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~~(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)~~
Author's Notes:
Triage: I'm very happy for this chapter. Read to the end to find out why. Thank you also, for all the kind reviews. From Zevoros and myself, we crave praise, and we aren't ashamed to admit so. Please read and review.
Zevoros: Special thanks to Evie Rose and Team Shadow! Additional thanks to CragmiteBlaster.
Penelope's Web
Chapter 7
Twilight's Destiny
Gadget woke suddenly from the sound of voices on the other side of her door. She tiredly wondered if her mentors were going to make her go through more preparations for the interview.
Septimius had made her learn how to walk in heels. It wasn't a process she enjoyed, and it left her feet sore.
"You can't just barge in while the tribute is sleep-"
"Ah, but I can, Sep!"
At just those few words, all inkling of sleep fled Gadget and she went rigid.
Her eyes went wide with terror and she pulled herself out of the bed as quickly as she could.
A place to hide. A place he wouldn't see her-
But she wasn't fast enough, and the door opened. Her prep team flooded into the room.
Mortimer followed them with his hands on his hips, even as he exchanged short words with Septimius.
"See! She wasn't asleep at all!" Mortimer said. He grinned at Gadget, but she didn't return it.
Gadget's heart beat too fast, and a growing sense of total horror squeezed at her.
Mortimer hummed as he eyed her up and down. "You're looking drab, Beautiful." He looked to Tullius and Bellona. "But we'll fix you right up!"
Gadget shook her head roughly, fearfully. She didn't want Mortimer's help. She was very aware of what his idea of 'fixing' meant.
"Mortimer!" Septimius snapped harshly and all movement ceased.
Gadget sent Septimius a look that was a mixture of awe and thanks. Was that the first time she'd heard him raise his voice? She couldn't recall.
Mortimer awkwardly cleared his throat and hummed. "Can I help you, Septimius?" he asked.
"It's not me who needs your help," Septimius said as he walked further into the room.
"Ah, you're right," Mortimer said and his vile gaze landed on Gadget. "It's Beautiful, here."
Gadget squirmed. She wished so desperately she could run away from him. Run away from Mortimer and never see him again.
But she couldn't.
"And trust me, Beautiful," Mortimer continued as he took steps closer to her. "The Capitol will find you darling!"
Gadget shifted her head back and her body against the wall as far as she could go. She wouldn't let him touch her again. Not again, not again, not again!
"Mortimer," Septimius said with clear warning.
Mortimer sighed in exasperation. "Yes, Septimius?"
"None of those tricks. You will leave her alone."
"Tricks," Mortimer said with a scoff and he at last looked away from Gadget. "What do you take me for?"
A monster.
Septimius' sharp glare didn't let up, and Mortimer cleared his throat again.
"Fine, no 'tricks'," Mortimer said with air quotes. "Trust me, I will not touch a hair on Beautiful's head without you knowing about it first."
Gadget didn't believe him in the slightest and her features filled with panic. She looked at Septimius with bated breath. He was going to take Mortimer's word for it. She knew he would. She was confident in it.
Mortimer was from the Capitol, so his words weighed more than hers did. And maybe…maybe Septimius would use the opportunity to wipe his hands clean of her.
And then Septimius could help someone stronger than she was. Someone like Binary. Someone who actually stood a chance in the arena.
Someone who wasn't as pathetic as she was.
"I think you're under the impression that I'll be leaving," Septimius said in a clipped voice. "I won't. Don't mind me. I'll just be here."
Mortimer spun back around to look at Septimius. He looked very, very annoyed now. "You never had a problem with my methods before," he said, and he watched Septimius carefully. "Why the sudden change?"
Septimius looked back at Mortimer. He didn't seem very solemn to Gadget at that moment.
"A bit of humility," Septimius said. "And sympathy."
Mortimer blinked in confusion, like he hadn't been expecting that kind of an answer.
"But looking at you," Septimius said slowly, eyeing Mortimer. "I don't think you have any."
"Is that so?" Mortimer asked. His mouth set in a grim line and he crossed and uncrossed his arms repeatedly.
"That's so," Septimius replied flatly.
Mortimer settled on leaving his arms by his side. "Well," he said, sounding very, very unhappy to Gadget, "I'll see if I can change that silly little idea!"
Philo seemed to take that as his cue as he unfurled a silver dress in his hands. Bellona and Tullius took the sides and spread it out so that they showed every little feature.
Great, more silver…
"Your dress, Beautiful," Mortimer said proudly.
Gadget gawked at the dress with trepidation. It looked, to her, like it was combined by a dozen different silver strands that appeared like, if they were pulled, the entire thing would split apart.
There were no straps that connected the bodice to her shoulders. A mix of bronze and silver, with other tiny little pieces decorated around the chest area that shone.
Her arms would have nothing to cover her, except for thin strands of silver that wrapped around the forearm to the torso.
The chest line was ridiculously steep, and would show far too much skin off for Gadget's liking. Far, far too much.
"I-I-I-"
"Some of my best work yet, I would say," Mortimer said. "Wouldn't you agree?"
"Oh, absolutely!"
"It's gorgeous!"
"It won't be topped!"
The voices of her prep team echoed praise to Mortimer, almost like it had been rehearsed. But Gadget knew better.
"I don't- I don't want to wear that," Gadget said. She felt a great sense of foreboding, and she knew in her heart that no matter how hard she protested, Mortimer wouldn't budge.
"If only you had said something earlier," Mortimer replied, unconcerned. "Then maybe we could have changed things."
Gadget stared at the dress in horror.
"But! It's too late for that, now!"
"Mortimer," Septimius said and Gadget looked at him. He stared at Mortimer's creation with clear unease. "This is far too much."
"You think so?" Mortimer asked and he looked at his dress. He shrugged. "Well, like I said. It's too late for any changes now!"
Gadget shook her head. No, I don't…please don't…
Philo grabbed her by her shoulder and pulled her into her bathroom. Bellona was at his side in seconds and they got to work at undressing Gadget.
It's going to be like last time, Gadget thought with panic. She fought to get out of their grip, but Philo and Bellona were stronger.
"I know you're excited for the interview," Belonna said in a tone like Gadget was a toddler, "but we need to do our work, too, okay? And then you'll be ready for them."
Gadget didn't care about that. About their jobs or their work. All that mattered was that they violated her all over again. Stripped away her privacy like she was nothing.
If she had been any other person who lived a different life entirely, she might have enjoyed the pampering to a degree. But they weren't just applying brushes and makeup. They were treating her like something less than a person.
She was just a doll to them. A mannequin.
And she hated that. She hated it so very much.
"P-please…" Gadget stammered, she wanted them to leave her be. "I-I…I can…"
She wanted to say she could do it herself, but she wasn't sure they'd listen, and more importantly, she wasn't sure they wouldn't take offense. And do worse things to her. Or punish her.
Like call in her stylist himself to handle it.
Not that these three individuals were any better. They seemed to be little more than extensions of her stylist's will.
"You most certainly can enjoy having your beauty brought out, little thing," Philo cooed as he performed minor trims to the edges of her long hair. Bellona and Tullius hummed agreements almost in a strange tune.
Gadget was beginning to think she'd never be able to avoid flinching at the words "beauty" and "beautiful" now, because of her stylist and his assistants.
"I do so love your hair!" Bellona exclaimed. "It's gorgeous!"
She applied a brush to it and smoothed out the tangles, if any, and then Tullius began making them into braids.
All through the process, Gadget's attempts at fending them off became more and more feeble and weak. She finally gave in and sat in sullen resignation, and the trio smiled in satisfaction. How many other District Three girls had to suffer the humiliation and got demeaned by this lot?
By the afternoon, Gadget had been fitted into the dress and had parts of her face covered in powder that matched her skin.
"There you are!" Mortimer exclaimed as he stepped away and took Gadget in. "You are exactly as I envisioned, Beautiful."
Gadget flinched. The words made her feel gross. She didn't want them.
Mortimer hummed and tapped at his cheek. "But that frown, that won't do at all!"
Cold fear washed over Gadget and all her muscles froze. No…no, no, oh no, please no!
Gadget shook her head rapidly. "No, no-"
"Don't be annoying," Mortimer frowned. He pulled a vial out of his pocket and spun the liquid around in its container. "It's just a small little-"
"Mortimer!" Septimius snapped.
Mortimer jumped and spun around, like he'd forgotten that Septimius was there. He probably had.
"Septimius!" Mortimer snapped with the same amount of fervor.
"You will not be giving her that," Septimius said, extending his finger at the vial.
Gadget hopped from one foot to the other. She sucked in a harsh breath that the corset she'd been fitted with helped to constrain.
"Does Beautiful look happy to you?" Mortimer questioned with a sweeping gesture. "I'm only being helpful."
"No. You aren't," Septimius said. He took measured steps towards Mortimer, unafraid of the limited distance he'd put between the two.
"Fine," Mortimer said. He spun the vial in his hand again. "But if Beautiful doesn't go out with a glowing smile, how does that reflect on me?"
Septimius scoffed, a sound that sounded odd coming from him. "I don't care," he replied. "And I don't think the Capitol will, either."
Mortimer pursed his lips. He stared at Septimius, and then at Gadget. His gaze left an oily feeling in her.
"Okay, fine," Mortimer said at last. He slid the vial back into his pocket. "If you're going to be so insistent about it."
Mortimer shook his hands out and made to approach Gadget. Her heart slammed heavily against her chest and she tried to move backwards.
"No," Septimius said pointedly and Mortimer stopped once more. "Give it to me."
Mortimer turned completely. Gadget could only just make out the look of annoyance that spread across his face.
"Absolutely not!" Mortimer said. "I bought it for my uses, you don't get to just take it away from me!"
"I can," Septimius said. He came closer to Mortimer. "If your uses jeopardize the health of the tribute."
"Jeopardize?" Mortimer repeated, his annoyance shifting into confusion.
"Yes," Septimius said. "The Gamemakers and the Head Gamemaker will put that blame on you."
Gadget watched carefully between Mortimer and Septimius. The pounding of her heart began to slow, bit by bit.
"So, when they do that," Septimius continued, "you'll be demoted from your job as the stylist of District Three." He crossed his arms. "Or even lose your job entirely."
Mortimer's confidence drained and he fingered the pocket he put his vial in.
"Can you imagine that scandal?" Septimius asked.
"Fine," Mortimer spat. "You've made your opinion loud and clear." He pushed his hand into his pocket and pulled out the vial. He held it out to Septimius. "But I want that back when I'm done here."
Septimius said nothing. He took the vial in his hand and twisted it around in his grip.
"I think…" Mortimer set his jaw. "...I think we're done here. Philo, Bellona, Tullius, time for us to go."
The prep team fled from Gadget's side and packed up the supplies they'd left around the room.
Relief burrowed into Gadget's very being. They were done with her. They're done.
Mortimer glared at Septimius, then swung his attention around towards Gadget. "Eat your heart out, Beautiful."
Mortimer left the room, Gadget's prep team hot on his heels. Septimius wasted no time in closing the door behind them.
Gadget's shoulders slouched. Septimius had gotten rid of Mortimer and she allowed her guard to drop just a bit. Her head drooped forward and let a curtain of hair fall over her face, despite the braids they'd been put in.
"Are you okay, Gadget?" Septimius asked quietly.
"I-I'm scared," Gadget admitted. The interview approached fast, and although Beetee, Wiress, and Septimius helped to prepare her the entire day before, she felt anything but.
Compared to the other tributes that would stand with Caesar, Gadget knew she would be inadequate.
"Hey, hey," Septimius said in his most assuring voice. "You have nothing to be afraid of."
Gadget raised a disbelieving gaze towards the man who was more like a dad to her in just these last few days than her own dad had ever been. Green eyes met tired dark eyes, but the man's face was crinkled in an encouraging smile.
Her lips quivered, and everything she had been bottling up, both the good, but mostly the bad, came bubbling forth with the force of a bursting dam. One sob, then another, and her whole body trembled violently as she ruined all the work her stylist and his trio of creepy drones had done.
"H-ho-how can you be s-so sure!?" Gadget caught herself asking, no, demanding, despite herself. "We're all g-going t-t-to…" die.
"You're not going to give up, Gadget Trevelyan!" Septimius snapped, and the girl flinched.
Gadget recoiled and ducked her head. An apology at the tip of her tongue.
"Beetee and Wiress, I can see in you, the makings of a victor!" His look was one of absolute conviction. "So listen very carefully to me: none of us are abandoning you. Not now, not ever. I won't hear any talk of 'there's a slim chance.' No, you are going to make it. You're going to grow old, as a victor, get married, have children."
As he spoke, Gadget's protesting mind saw through the haze of fear and panic, a mirror of sorts.
He's frightened...for me!?
But why?
"Promise me you will not give up, Gadget. Promise me you will fight." For yourself.
The silence stretched for seconds, bordering on a minute, and Septimius added a quiet, pleading final word.
"Please."
She was still overwhelmed and struggling to recover, but she managed a weak nod, and Septimius accepted it as sufficient.
Gadget couldn't stop a sniffle and the pathetic look on her face, but Septimius pulled her into a hug.
"It's going to be alright," he said, the conviction of his voice firm.
But would it? Would it really? Gadget decided if she was going to fight, and not give up, then more than ever, she had to defeat Binary even before the Games started.
Gadget didn't know how much more she could take.
It was an invisible pressure against her head that pressed in from all sides.
The backstage of where the interviews would occur were clean and spacious. Chairs and couches lined the room, and most surrounded a round table at the center, where foods and drinks resided on top of.
When they'd arrived, the Careers had wasted no time in congregating around that portion of the room. Their loud and boisterous voices filled the room as they talked among themselves.
Gadget had made sure to stay far, far away from them by sitting in the far corner of the room.
She hadn't looked at Binary once since they arrived.
The peppy music that always started off the interviews blared from on the stage and resounded through the room.
More pressure added to Gadget's skull. More pressure that pressed down on her. More pressure that squeezed at her.
Who composed this? Gadget pondered. It fit terribly against the backdrop of murder and death that was to come.
They didn't care they were sending them into a murder game.
And soon, Gadget would be among their victims.
Beetee and Wiress had mentioned offhandedly, once, the impact music could have on the audience, regarding something in the arena.
How tense music made them do exactly that during those dangerous moments. And Gadget could recall those kinds of things the more she thought about it.
The triumphant music that came when a victor was crowned. And the somber, sad ones that came when a highly sought for tribute died.
Will they play any of those kinds of music for me? Gadget wondered.
Gadget crossed her arms over her chest. The dress had torn apart what modesty she'd wished to keep and hold onto, and spat it back out at her.
Far too much skin on display that she wished she could cover. But it was too late now.
She felt like a computer that was stripped of its chassis. Hideous yet functional. But not something one desired to have or even so much as look at.
She caught the eye of a few tributes, but she refused to meet their gazes. She did look enviously at the ensemble District Twelve was given.
Clearly they had a terrific stylist. Katniss wore a bright red dress that was closer to flaming orange, with some glittering material around the frilly hems of her long skirt. It was daring yet modest, and while the design was simple, it remained very humbly elegant.
Peeta looked quite dashing in his charcoal grey suit with dark red flaming decal accents. The jacket and pants fit him very firmly, yet maintained form enough to look like it wasn't completely attached to him.
Why couldn't she have had their stylist?
Instead she needed protection from hers. She would never be able to thank Septimius enough for being there and countermanding all of that man's worst tendencies.
"Gadget!" Lace's excited squeak drew Gadget's attention, along with almost everyone else.
It made the girl from District Eight falter, but after a furtive glance around, she darted over to Gadget, lightly, but firmly pulling her away from Binary, whose pursed lips were the only sign of annoyance or displeasure.
Honestly, given what Gadget planned to do in a short while, annoyance would be the mildest emotion she expected Binary, Grid and Qwerty to express to her.
Corduroy was plodding after her and Lace at a slow, but steady pace. That brace was going to be such a problem for him.
Now that they were by themselves somewhat, Gadget had a chance to really goggle at the attire District Eight's stylists came up with for her friends.
It was...extremely distracting.
Lace was especially eye-catching - and eye-watering - with her metallic iridescent multi-hued dress.
The slightest movements induced a shift of colors that almost made her blend into her surroundings. The design itself was simple enough; the bodice hugged her slender figure, and the skirt flared slightly as it stretched lower, ending just below her knees. The arm sleeves bared her shoulders, but covered half the biceps and part of her forearms. All made in the same color-shifting hues.
Gadget blinked several times and tried not to let her eyes water for a wholly different reason than her emotional upheavals.
None of the other tributes managed to stare at Lace for too long before they were looking elsewhere. If Lace was allowed to wear this into the Games, she could win by virtue of dazzle camouflage alone.
Then there was Corduroy.
He looked like a cross between a sheer mockery, and an elitist-like from what she had seen in Capitol Couture.
He had on a cream colored suit with gold epaulets gracing each shoulder, and on his left breast were the insignia and crest of District Eight, with a frayed length of string shaped into a messy knot representing the textile district.
But the final touch was the thick tapestry showing a map of District Eight, that he wore as a cape on his back. When Gadget's eyes locked on his attire, he awkwardly turned on the spot, so she could see the cape, and turned back, arms spread apart slightly.
"You look so beautiful!" Lace said, and Gadget flinched.
She mentally cursed her stylist and his trio of drones. She now hated the word so much.
Lace noticed the girl's reaction, but maintained that friendly smile of hers. Corduroy had mostly just a thoughtful expression.
"Th-thank you...y-you're dress is am-amazing," Gadget stammered.
"Isn't it just?" Lace looked down at herself and spun around. The shimmering colors shifted rapidly, and Gadget nearly felt dizzy.
"Any plans for your interview, Gadget?" Corduroy asked, carefully avoiding looking at Lace's dress.
Gadget fumbled with her fingers and looked at her feet. She did have a plan. It was a gamble, a big one. But it was all she had.
"Y-yeah," Gadget said awkwardly. "I-I have an, uhm, a plan."
"That is good," Corduroy said. He dropped into an empty chair near them. "Kind of nervous about what to say to Caesar."
"Yeah," Lace agreed. She pulled Gadget flush to her side and fell into the same chair together.
Gadget blushed at the close proximity and the unexpected action.
"Cecelia told me to just be myself," Lace said. "Which is p-p-pretty easy, being myself," she continued, her voice gaining speed with her nervousness.
Cecelia. That was the name of the victor Binary had told her about.
"Cecelia?" Gadget voiced quietly to herself.
Lace nodded harshly and hummed. "Y-yeah," she said. "She's so-so-so cool!"
Gadget's fingers played with the strands of her dress as she thought. Cecelia. The same victor that joined the Career Pack and killed Gizmo Kassver.
Was Binary trying to warn her away from Lace and Corduroy because of that? Because they were connected to Cecelia?
There seemed to be a dozen different reasons Binary told her about Gizmo Kassver, but she didn't understand why, or what those reasons were. Only that, because Cecelia managed to get into the Career Pack…
Binary thought he could do it, too.
Gadget felt a finger press into her shoulder, shaking her away from her thoughts.
"What're you thinking about?" Lace asked playfully.
"N-nothing," Gadget replied evasively. Lace seemed to shrug and go with her excuse, but Corduroy looked far less convinced.
"I do not think…" Corduroy started and Gadget stiffened. Would he try to dig the information out of her? "I do not think we should tell Caesar of our alliance." Gadget relaxed, just. "This is a time for us and us alone."
"Yeah yeah yeah," Lace agreed. She kicked her feet back and forth, careful to avoid Gadget's own.
A thought struck Gadget. One she feared about, in the back of her mind, but didn't dare ask about.
Not until that moment.
"L-listen," Gadget said meekly, uncommanding. But Lace and Corduroy gave her their full attention, still. "Uhm," she stammered. "When the Bloodbath starts, I th-think that…uh…"
Gadget rubbed her arm awkwardly. She wasn't used to giving ideas or taking charge. But here she was. Throwing out an idea that could either get them killed or…help them survive.
"I think th-that we sh-should m-meet up in the dire-direction of wherever the mouth of the Co-Cornucopia is faci-facing."
Gadget winced and ducked her head. She prepared for a diatribe of scathing remarks to come her way. For them to tell her how moronic her idea was, because they knew something she didn't.
But it never came.
"It is…not a bad idea," Corduroy said and Gadget looked up at him in surprise. "When the Bloodbath begins, we will likely lose each other in the fray."
Gadget's eyes slid down to his leg. Cast in a brace. His odds had been decent when she had last seen them. She wondered if they had since gone down.
Either way, his leg was not in good condition.
"Your leg…" she trailed off, unsure.
"See, Cordy!" Lace said and Gadget jumped in surprise when she felt an arm wrap around her shoulder. "Even Gadget is concerned!"
Corduroy just smiled. "Trust me, my leg is just fine." He extended his leg, then bent it down again.
Lace pouted. "It's not! I know it's not!" She pulled her arm back from around Gadget and put it on her knee instead to help her lean forward. "I'm not stupid! I can-can see that i-it's causing you pain!"
Gadget eyed the brace warily. She hadn't seen any pain in Corduroy's face when he moved it, but that didn't mean there wasn't any there. Lace knew her partner better than she did, after all.
But he wasn't in any shape to run or fight with it. It would slow him down, and Gadget didn't think the Bloodbath would help matters in any way.
"I-I think you'll…" Gadget trailed off and flushed as both Lace and Corduroy turned to her. "You'll ne-eed to run aw-away from the Bloodbath."
Lace gave Gadget a beaming smile. "See! Gadget agrees!"
Again, Gadget blushed in embarrassment.
Corduroy's lips fell into a thin line and he tapped his armrest again and again and again.
Gadget rubbed her arm and looked down at the floor at something she found particularly interesting.
Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Corduroy smile and cross his good leg over his braced one. "So you have asked, so it will be done."
Gadget shivered. Those words were so familiar. So similar to the same ones she had heard Binary say before.
They gripped at her, vice-like, and held on until she had no choice but to give in.
Gadget just wanted to be free of them. Of him. Of Binary.
But he clung to her like a virus.
Across the room, on the wall, a large television, which had been playing things Gadget had no care for, flickered to an overview shot of Caesar's stage.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," Claudius' voice boomed through the area, "OUR MASTER OF CEREMONIES, CAESARRRR FLICKERMAAAAN!" His voice dragged along Caesar's name, like he was emphasizing how important he was.
The audience roared with applause and a light shone down on Caesar. He gave a giant smile and stood up with a wave.
"Thank you, thank you!" Caesar bowed with a hand behind his back. "Welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome!"
It begins.
"The 74th annual Hunger Games!" The audience grew louder in their cheers. "Are you excited!? Yes!?" He laughed the same signature laugh he always gave year after year.
Someone Gadget didn't recognize, for they weren't a Gamemaker or a Peacekeeper, led Glimmer out of the room.
"Seventy-four years! Can you believe it's been that long!? How long have I been here? Don't answer that," Caesar finished quickly.
Gadget began to tap her foot as anxiety began its familiar buildup. She wasn't ready for this. She didn't want them to see her.
"We can do it, Gadget," Lace said encouragingly, and she grasped Gadget's hand in her own.
"I don't look that old, do I?" Caesar asked, turning to the side to give the audience a side profile view. They gave a resounding sound on the negative, and Caesar laughed. "Good answer!"
Lace told Gadget she could do it, but she wasn't sure. Not even as Lace's hand squeezed at her own and Gadget grasped Corduroy's hand in her other.
"The first tribute…is from District One," Caesar announced, and there was a clap from someone close to the stage. "District One, someone likes District One?"
"It-it would be funny if they started with District Eight," Lace said with a nervous chuckle.
"That would certainly be a change of pace," Corduroy remarked, his gaze firmly glued on the television.
"District One," Caesar went on. "We have a lovely young woman, and her name…is Glimmer."
And like every year, the Careers would start them off, and steal away the show.
"Glimmer." Caesar retreated back towards his chair. "Let's see if she does indeed shine, let's have a warm round of applause…for Glimmer!"
Glimmer sauntered out onto the stage, sashaying her hips and waving at the crowd.
Gadget paled and looked away from Glimmer. She hadn't gotten a good look at her since they arrived, but now that she did, she could see clearly how Glimmer's golden gown was see-through. It left very little to the imagination.
"Well, that's…s-s-something." Lace coughed awkwardly.
For a moment, Gadget felt a sliver of sympathy. Did Glimmer have a stylist similar to what she herself had? Someone like Mortimer?
"Look at you! Look at you," Caesar said as he circled her and Glimmer greeted the crowd. "That is quite the outfit. Don't you think?"
Glimmer giggled flirtatiously as Caesar offered her his microphone. "Yes, Caesar, and it feels good, too."
"I think we all know what angle she is going for," Corduroy commented.
Gadget nodded sourly. The Games took everything from them. Their dignity, their identity…their lives.
But some people just adapted. Even embraced it. Like the Careers.
It was getting harder and harder to keep her promise to Septimius.
The Capitolites laughed and cheered at everything Caesar or Glimmer said. The girl knew how to work the crowds.
The rest of the tributes were now watching the TV with rapt interest.
Gadget was glad for one thing: they were bringing in the girls of each district first, then the boys.
Which meant Gadget had the chance to take a hasty retreat as soon as her interview was done.
For better or worse, when she was done here, she did not want to stick around.
She turned her attention back to the screen, ignoring how tightly Lace was gripping her hand. She honestly was doing the same, and she could all but feel Corduroy's own tenseness.
Caesar was laughing and the crowd joined in. Glimmer seemed to be soaking it all up, a mad grin on her face.
"Feisty! I like it!" Caesar laughed along with the audience. "Let's ask Glimmer a few questions folks!"
That's what we're here for.
"Glimmer! Tell us! Are you ready?"
"Yes, Caesar, I am," Glimmer answered easily. She threw her curled blonde hair back over her shoulder and pushed her chest out.
"You are? So sure, so sure. I like that. What it takes to win, doesn't it folks? Doesn't it?"
The crowd cheered, but Gadget didn't understand what for. There was nothing exciting about this. About any of it.
"Well," Caesar continued. "I think we can all say that we've been dying to know what made you volunteer," he said. "Isn't that right, folks?"
Again, the crowd cheered loudly, and Glimmer's wide smile grew wider.
Gadget watched the interview with rapt attention now. She squinted her eyes, locking onto the eyes of the people on the screen. In Caesar, she saw, as she did before, the pain. A pained expression that went unnoticed by people because of his loud laugh, his huge grin, but it was there.
And in Glimmer?
"It's no secret, Caesar." Glimmer's voice took a sultry undertone. "I love my district. I love my people, and my family. All my life, we have been raised to understand what we need to do in the interest and well-being of the district as a whole."
Caesar hummed and nodded thoughtfully. "So this is about patriotism as much as it is for the betterment of your people?"
"Yes." Glimmer's eyes gleamed with eagerness and fervor. "I am proud to be here, to have what it takes to get ahead of everyone."
"That's right," Caesar said, "you're not eighteen yet, and you got ahead of one of your peers. Aren't you worried you might be slightly less prepared than the other?"
"Not in the least," Glimmer replied. "I'm here, she's not. I think that makes it clear, I'm more than ready for whatever the Game throws at me."
"Well, there you have it, folks!" Caesar gestured grandly to the audience and grasped the girl's hand as he raised their arms and stood up, prompting Glimmer to do the same. "From District One, Glimmer!"
The crowd applauded and cheered, but Gadget could only stare at the...madness in Glimmer's eyes. No, she was not a babbling loon, but that fervent belief in whatever her district had drilled into her head. All that talk about patriotism and service to her people. Gadget knew no better word for it than organized insanity.
A paradox to be sure, but it was there.
As she was cheered off the stage, Caesar smoothly transitioned to the next tribute, and called on Glimmer's district partner.
Marvel emerged onto the stage with a swagger and a cocky gait. He smiled at the audience and gave them a wave.
As with Glimmer, the audience was taken by Marvel. They knew, just as well as Gadget did, that the winner would likely be one of them.
But Marvel did something different from Glimmer. He changed course from Caesar and walked towards the edge of the stage.
"Oh come on, you guys! It's the Hunger Games!" Marvel shouted, practically dancing across the stage. "How you feelin'!?"
The crowd grew louder with Marvel's eagerness, growing in pitch with him.
Marvel laughed and kicked his leg out with a whoop. He pointed out at someone in the crowd and said something Gadget couldn't hear over the cheering.
"Welcome, welcome, welcome Marvel," Caesar greeted as he tapped Marvel on the shoulder, making him spin around.
"Thank you for having me, Caesar," Marvel said, and he clasped Caesar's hand in his own. "Now let me tell you something," he said, beginning before even Caesar could get his foot in the door, "I have always wanted to be here. And now that I am, it's…well, it's marvelous."
The crowd roared in applause and Marvel flashed them a cheeky grin. Caesar, too, laughed with them.
"Oh, Marvel, if I didn't know any better, I would say you're excited!" Caesar said. "Wouldn't that be right, folks?" he asked with a look out over the audience.
The audience agreed, very enthusiastically. It was far louder than anything Glimmer had managed to pick up, and in a very short amount of time.
Gadget's hands squeezed around Lace and Corduroy's harder.
Caesar and Marvel sat down in their chairs on the stage, and the excited audience cheers slowly died down.
"I think that I can safely say for all of us," Caesar started, "we want to know: what are your strengths?" Caesar extended a finger.
Marvel opened his mouth to answer.
"What are your weaknesses?" Caesar continued, adding a second finger. "And how do you feel about the competition?"
"Well, ever since I was a little kid, I would watch these Games," Marvel began, and Gadget knew already what he was going to say.
"Uh-huh?" Caesar asked with an intrigued smile, his white teeth gleaming in the light.
"And I would see someone kill someone else…"
"Yes?"
"And I just thought, 'that's me.'"
"I heard, uhm…" Gadget trailed off awkwardly as her allies looked away from the TV and to her. "I heard him ta-talking to his m-mentor." She pulled her hand free from Lace and rubbed at her shoulder. "And he told M-M-Marvel to say that."
Corduroy tapped at his lips with his finger. "That is not unusual, from what my mentors told me."
Gadget pressed her fingers together. "I kn-know," she said, but she'd hoped her allies would find something useful from it.
She had known it wasn't particularly useful information, but…
"I also saw…" Gadget's voice faded away into quiet mumbles, and her eyes shifted around to see if she could find any eavesdroppers.
"You saw?" Lace gently encouraged. She took Gadget's hand back.
"I saw Marvel being ch-choked by…uhm…" Gadget almost stopped at the surprised looks on Lace and Corduroy's faces. "B-by h-his mentor, Bu-Burgundy."
"Wh-what?" Lace stuttered. She glanced up at the TV, but Gadget knew all they would find there was Marvel performing to the crowd. "But he looks so…the same."
"Which is alarming," Corduroy said, looking uneased.
"A mentor shouldn't do that to someone!" Lace whisper-yelled. "Or-or to anyone!"
Gadget bit her lip and dropped her gaze down towards her shoes. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything. Lace both looked and sounded like she was on the verge of tears.
Would Corduroy be upset with her for bringing it up? For upsetting his district partner?
Because she knew everyone would turn on her given the chance.
Because they had seen her terrible score and she was giving them an out.
Because she was a worthless ally that had no place in their alliance.
Gadget felt Lace squeeze her hand tightly, and Gadget squeezed back.
"Well," Corduroy started slowly, and he took both Gadget and Lace's free hands, "unfortunately, these things do happen."
Lace made a sound Gadget couldn't identify, and she pulled Gadget and Corduroy closer to her.
"But since we are sharing," Corduroy said, and he looked at Gadget. "I learned something, too."
"You did?" Lace asked. Gadget could feel her fingers fidgeting even in her own hand. "You never told me that!"
"I thought it was a minor thing," Corduroy replied. He moved closer to Gadget and Lace. "The girl from Seven talking with one of the Gamemakers."
Gadget pressed her feet hard into the floor. "Seneca Crane?" she asked quietly.
"No, someone else," Corduroy answered. He leaned back. "But whatever it is, I did not catch it."
Gadget bit her lip.
"Let's hear it for Marvel!" Caesar said and Gadget's eyes jumped back to the television.
Caesar and Marvel stood up, their hands joined and raised. Marvel whooped loudly and the crowd clapped loudly for him.
"Good luck!" Caesar said, and the two of them shook hands one last time, before Marvel left the stage.
District Two was next. Which only meant that she herself was going up very, very soon.
Gadget felt a lump in her throat that she swallowed down. Her clammy hands gripped to Lace and Corduroy's harder.
"And now," Caesar said, "from District Two, another volunteer! Please welcome…Clove!"
Onto the stage, Clove appeared. Her makeup and pink dress that she had to hold up as she walked were so very clearly at odds with the girl Gadget had seen during training.
They couldn't be any more different.
Clove smiled demurely, almost shyly. No, it didn't look right to Gadget at all.
"Thank you, Caesar," Clove said diplomatically, and she curtsied in her dress.
"No, dear, thank you for your mighty sacrifice," Caesar said eagerly. He took Clove's seemingly delicate hand and helped her into her chair.
"Oh, Caesar, please," Clove said and she ducked her head.
She does play the shy part well, Gadget acknowledged.
"It's not a sacrifice if I win." Clove tilted her eyes up at Caesar from under her lashes and she smirked.
"Now that is very true," Caesar commented. He crossed his legs.
Gadget watched Clove's eyes carefully. Just as she had done with Glimmer. She hadn't really bothered with Marvel, since he was all but an open file folder when it came to his inner workings.
Glimmer was some measure of madness hidden under a veneer of community and benevolent intentions. But Clove was nothing but bottled fury. Despite the tentative and humble smile on her lips, the barely-restrained rage in her eyes was palpable.
Even Caesar's body language was slightly instinctive defensiveness around her.
How deadly did one have to be to make someone as experienced and affable as Caesar wary?
"So tell me something," Caesar began, "we've all heard from Glimmer, she's driven by a desire to make life better for her district, and Marvel is driven by the glory of battle...and subsequent victory; and I'm sure I'm not the only one who wants to know what it is for you. Right, folks?"
The crowd shouted their affirmations, and Caesar laughed with their eagerness.
Clove shot them a modest smile, and the audience ate it up.
"I've always wanted to be in the Hunger Games," Clove admitted. "Who wouldn't want to bring pride to their district? And I knew I was the best option for it."
"You certainly made it seem that way," Caesar commented. "Quite the thing during your reaping."
Clove laughed prettily, but Gadget knew that there was nothing genuine about it.
"Thank you!" Clove said. "Yes, she was…well, let's be honest, a simple moron that wouldn't last a day." Clove's lips formed into a sadistic smile and, for the briefest of moments, Gadget saw the real Clove shine through the facade she'd built just for this interview.
"Oh!" Caesar yelped. "Strong words!"
Clove just smiled sweetly at him.
"And if she had caused me to lose my position to volunteer," Clove started casually, "I probably would've skinned her alive."
"Wow!" Caesar exclaimed. He put a hand over his left breast. "This really means a lot to you, then?"
"Of course!" Clove's eyes lit up. "Trust me, my name won't be something you forget so easily."
"Oh, I have no doubt about it in my mind," Caesar said with a firm nod. He uncrossed and crossed his legs. "So, I have it on good authority that you're good with a knife?"
"No…" Clove trailed off with a shake of her head. She smiled and dropped her gaze down slightly.
"Yes," Caesar sang. "Come on," he said in a stage-whisper, "it's only us."
Clove let out a slight laugh and looked back up at Caesar. "I'm the best."
Caesar leaned back. "Really?" he asked with clear intrigue.
Clove nodded. "I could kill you from clear across this stage," she said confidently, glancing across the stage as she said so.
The crowd broke into excited cheers as Caesar donned a look of exaggerated fear.
"I have a stupid question," Corduroy commented.
"There are no stupid questions!" Lace said, though her tone and expression betrayed her attempt at a playful and kind assurance.
Gadget couldn't blame her.
"Which would you rather be stuck in a dark alley with?" Corduroy asked. "Glimmer, Marvel, or Clove?"
Gadget breathed out a single, surprised laugh. She hadn't been expecting Corduroy of all people to ask something as mundane as that.
"Th-that's the s-stupidest question I've ev-ever-ever heard," Gadget stuttered.
"Gadget!" Lace whined. She shook her head, and it seemed like her anxiety had melted away for the moment. "You guys suck."
Corduroy's lips quirked in amusement.
"Uhm…" Gadget dropped her head. Glimmer, Marvel, and Clove. They were all so scary.
None of them would hesitate to kill her. Or torture her for hours on end like she had seen some of the Careers in other Games do.
Put on a show for the Capitol and get sponsors in return. And all it cost was the excruciating torture of someone who didn't deserve it.
Gadget pressed her legs together and tried not to squirm at the thought. Because…what if they tried to do the same thing to her?
No, Gadget, no. That's not worth thinking about, she thought desperately.
Clove hadn't said any threats directly, but they were implied. But the things she said. The knife she could throw could end up in Gadget's back.
And Clove could definitely back up those words.
Just as Glimmer and Marvel could.
Just as anyone who isn't me could. She thought bitterly to herself.
It was over. It was already over. Her peripherals saw Caesar laughing uproariously at something Clove said, despite that she all but directly threatened him with death mere moments ago. The man was good. And Clove was young and brimming with arrogance thinly concealed under the guise of a sweet, shy girl who one thought wouldn't hurt a fly, until she openly bragged about killing anyone with a knife at a dozen paces.
"And there's our potential next victor, ladies and gentlemen. CLOVE!"
Like with the others, he held the hand of the tribute and stood up, making them rise with him, but Clove slid her hand out of his as soon as was socially acceptable to do so, and her mask slipped a moment.
The rage showed.
Gadget barely concealed a whimper. She felt all of her nerves fleeing her. After Cato, it was her!
I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do i-
"You can do this, Gadget." Corduroy snapped her out of her spiral, making her look at him with wide eyes.
She wanted to ask, "H-how…?"
Corduroy's answer was with a quick glance at Lace, then back at her.
It brought to mind again that Corduroy and Lace appeared to be close, likely he had been looking after her from before. She knew nothing much about them, and everything they learnt about each other now was geared towards surviving the Games. And there was only ever one.
There were never any exceptions to this.
But the point was, Corduroy seemed to understand how Gadget's mind worked. Because she shared some similarities to Lace. They both tended to stammer, though Lace only did when she lost her nerve. Gadget stuttered all the time, whether she was happy or not, and she rarely experienced happiness.
"You've all seen him, and his daring race to get into the Games." Caesar said, "Ladies and gentlemen, the one you've all been waiting for, CATO!"
The crowd didn't just applaud. They rose to their feet almost as one in such haste, the volume was felt as much as it was heard. The roar of the crowd, along with their enthusiastic clapping, had Jason shaking his head and slapping his palms over his ears.
Gadget felt a pang of sympathy for the boy. His longevity was in question. All thanks to Rue.
Cato marched in, footsteps synced to the musical ensemble and fanfare like a trueborn elitist of the Capitol. His attire fitted and flattered his masculine physique well, and there was a much more enthusiastic screaming from the females in the audience.
"It's awesome to be here," Cato said as he sat down casually in the chair beside Caesar.
"And I know for a fact that we are all delighted to have you! Isn't that right, folks!?"
The crowd shouted their agreement, very loudly. Not for the first time, Caesar laughed with their enthusiasm and Cato smiled.
Caesar offered Cato his hand as he asked a question about his accommodations to the Capitol.
"Oh, it's been great. Really something. Gets me hyped and ready for the butchering to come," Cato said with a grin that did not give Gadget any confidence. He took Caesar's hand firmly.
"Ah!" Caesar whimpered and curled up in his chair suddenly, dramatically.
"Come on!" Cato laughed in exasperation, along with the crowd. "I'm not even squeezing that hard!"
Caesar let go abruptly and quickly smoothed out his suit. His face twisted into a look of faux-embarrassment.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Caesar said shortly. Then he laughed. "So, tell me, Cato. You're a strong lad, and with the way you raced to volunteer - you're here by choice?"
"Yeah," Cato said with a nod.
"Why?" Caesar asked, intrigued. He leaned back in his chair.
"Oh man," Cato began, "I think these are the greatest games ever invented."
Gadget felt her blood go cold. Caesar had asked similar questions to the other Careers, but Cato's response…his casualness chilled her.
"And, uh," Cato continued, "I just wanna be here to win it. And I think it's awesome. And it's something I've always wanted to do since I was a kid."
That was his reason. He thought the Games were awesome. Something to be proud about.
"And I think anyone who doesn't want to do it is an idiot," Cato finished with a nasty chuckle.
Caesar broke into laughter and Gadget flicked her attention to him. She wished she could understand what he thought, but nothing came to her.
"It's amazing," Cato said with a smile.
"I wouldn't go that far," Caesar said once his laughter settled.
"I'd go farther than that!" Cato replied, even as the audience chuckled to Caesar. "IT'S THE HUNGER GAMES!"
The audience, fickle as they were, exploded into cheers.
Gadget hadn't doubted for a second that Cato would get that kind of response. He was everything the Capitol wanted in a victor.
The favorite to win.
"So, you're a fighter and a warrior," Caesar said eagerly once the cheers came to a stop. "And a score of ten, very impressive."
Cato's smile slipped for barely an instant, but then it was back. "You're asking what my game plan is, Caesar?"
"Oho!" Caesar leaned back in his chair and tugged at his collar with exaggerated nervousness. "You caught me! I am wondering what your game plan is, and I know I'm not the only one!"
The audience agreed, very vocally.
Cato chuckled. "There's not much to say, Caesar. Kill everyone in sight once the Bloodbath begins." He leaned forward. "And between you and me, I've already got my first target."
"Oh, is that so?" Caesar asked eagerly.
Gadget glanced at Jason, who had gone very, very pale.
"One tribute has made the mistake of messing with me in training," Cato said with a smirk. "And I can't wait for the Bloodbath."
"You're very confident, then?" Caesar asked. "I love that. I love it, I love it!"
"Gadget," Corduroy said suddenly and Gadget turned to him.
But it wasn't himself Corduroy directed her to. It was the man dressed in black that stood mere feet away. He stared at Gadget sternly, and she felt herself unable to mask her nerves.
"You've got this!" Lace encouraged.
"You do. You can do it," Corduroy said.
I don't…I can't…
"I have…I have a p-plan," Gadget told them quietly. Then she stood. "I…I hope-"
The man gently grabbed onto Gadget's hand and pulled her forward. She cast one last look back at Corduroy and Lace, but all they did was send her reassuring smiles.
Gadget gave her best smile back at them, but all she did was grimace. And then the man pulled her away through the backstage lounge.
He brought her past Binary, who sent her a calculating look, and Marina, who smirked mockingly at her.
Into the hallway and out of the room, into a space no one could see her. A space that would lead her right into the eyes of the nation.
"You're a fighter!" Caesar said, his voice clearer and louder.
"I'm prepared." Gadget heard Cato respond. "Vicious. Ready to go."
Gadget swallowed. The audience didn't need to say anything for her to know that they ate up everything Cato said. They loved him and he barely had to try.
The man led her around a corner, and Caesar and Cato came into her view. Both sat so casually. So normally.
So confidently.
"You're up when he calls your name," the man said, pointlessly. Gadget understood how this worked. She would go out and have no impact.
She would be a tribute that no one cared about, because no matter what she planned on saying, she couldn't top their excitement for Cato.
"Well, Cato, I think I can speak for all of us in that we're all excited to see you soon," Caesar said as he stood up.
The clock ticked down. She was up next.
"Thank you, Caesar," Cato said as he followed Caesar's lead.
Caesar, like he had for everyone else, took Cato's hard and raised it high above their heads. "CATO!"
Uproarious cheers came from the audience, far louder than they had before. Cato had effectively cut a sizable fanbase for himself.
Cato walked off the stage on the other side, his footsteps like thunder.
How am I supposed to top that? Gadget thought is despair. Cato was everything she was not. The audience favorite. The Career with the highest score. He'd been guaranteed to steal the show from the start, and Gadget was in the worst position in the line-up.
Between two Career districts.
All anyone of them would want from her was to move along so they could get to another tribute that might have a chance.
A chance that someone like her did not have.
But…I have to try…
"And up next, District Three!" Caesar announced. He held up three fingers for emphasis. "The district of technology and…" Caesar stopped, and Gadget saw the crowd hang onto his every word.
At least Caesar seemed to be trying his best to hype them up for her.
"The home of our next tribute, Gadget!"
Contrary to her expectations of silence and staring, the fanfare of music was just as enthusiastic as it had been for Cato and the Careers. The applause and cheering wasn't nearly as loud as it had been, and yet it was all the louder and clearer now that she was right outside, and the recipient of it.
The countless eyes locked on her every move made her want to keep moving to the other side of the stage and disappear forever. People were screaming, clapping, whooping and whistling enthusiastically.
It was all a laugh, and utterly horrific.
She was glad she had her faculties, and twice as glad that Septimius had been there to intercept her stylist. He actually tried to drug her! Again!
Woodenly, she forced her legs to bring her ever closer to the grinning host, Caesar. He was chuckling merrily with open welcoming arms, as if seeing a gift being brought towards him.
Her lips quirked ever so slightly, doing her best to ignore the massive projection to her right that enlarged her face for the audience a hundredfold. Everyone in the waiting rooms could see her now…including Binary.
Stay the course, stay the course, stay the course, she reminded herself urgently even as she started to realize she'd instinctively given Caesar her hand, and he'd bent over and kissed the top of her palm like a gentleman.
Her open-mouthed stare didn't affect the man at all, but his eyes relayed some measure of kindness and understanding.
Using small cues only she could tell, by the light taps on her wrist with his hand, he guided her to settle down on the chair, and he joined her, crossing his legs and leaning heavily on the armrest, bringing him closer to her.
"Well, Gadget, how are you liking the Capitol and the Games so far."
The Capitol had seen the wild and barely repressed enthusiasm of the Careers up until then.
Now they got to see someone who was the total opposite of the first four. Completely different, and completely out of her element. Lost, afraid, bereft of hope.
"I-I-I...I…uhm…" She lowered her head in shame. This was impossible! She couldn't do it.
I'm a disappointment, my mentors and Septimius must see that now…
She hated being a disappointment, but what else could she be to anyone?
Her own dad blamed her for being born.
"Well, someone's clearly overwhelmed," Caesar said in a light, jocular tone, casting a quick look around at the crowd.
They responded with affirmative hums and encouraging tones.
The man was truly incredible at his art. He could turn the favor of the crowd in any way that he wanted.
Bringing the spotlight back to her in a manner of speaking, he began, "Gadget, the whole Capitol just loves you, and we want to know anything and everything about you."
His hands moved and gestured as he spoke, and emphasized on words.
"An-anything?" Gadget asked, her mind made quick calculations. She might capitalize on this after all.
"Anything, my dear." Caesar grinned widely.
It might have been a pleading look in her eyes, or perhaps Caesar never allowed a silence to stretch on too long. Either way, he drew everyone's attention when he tapped his chin thoughtfully, and nodded to himself as he began.
"Actually, tell me, Gadget, what happened on the day you stepped out of the train."
Gadget blinked. Then mentally shook her head. Of course they'd have seen that.
"We all noticed you were limping, when before that, you clearly weren't," he continued, "was it an accident?"
"N-no, it wasn't," Gadget replied.
It was now all or nothing. Once she committed her answer, there was no taking it back, and more, Binary was going to be so overheated.
Caesar's eyebrows raised in question, an invitation for the girl to elaborate, and in her head, she could see Binary's death stare, but she shoved it aside for now.
"I-i-it w-was my d-d-district partner…" Gadget admittedly softly, but the built-in mic or mics picked up every word like she'd shouted it from the tops of the building.
Caesar leaned backwards, his hand moving away from his chin, clearly shocked.
From the murmurings and the gasps she heard amongst the audience, Gadget knew she had their full attention. Not that there had been any wavering of attention to begin with, but now, she could almost physically feel them hanging on to her every word, stuttering and all.
This much Gadget was certain of: you never killed your own district partner except if you were both the last surviving members of the Games.
One never harmed their fellow district partner, no matter how much they might have disliked them previously. Especially in any manner that debilitated them to such an extent as to affect their public performance and presentation in any way.
"So, you're saying that Binary had hurt your leg?" Caesar asked, as if further clarification was needed.
Gadget nodded mutely.
"That's...a terrible thing, my dear." Caesar's expression was genuine, and he seemed really concerned. Gadget could tell when she glanced up at him briefly, before looking back down again.
She couldn't bring herself to look up anywhere where there were eyes to look at her. She didn't want to see the looks of disgust and hatred. She was weak, and useless...maybe some of them might even decide she should be killed right then and there...it'd only bring up the quality of the tributes remaining.
"If I may," Caesar spoke delicately, as if approaching a frightened animal, "is this the first time your fellow tribute has done this to you?"
Gadget wilted slightly, and slumped her shoulders. She wished she wasn't here, that she didn't have to do this, but she'd set the processor running, and now she had to wait on the executed file to boot.
"N-n-no...it's not...th-the first time." She brushed some hair strands that got loose, and looked right into Caesar's eyes. "He liked to...b-beat…"
She rubbed her arm nervously. And for the first time in her life, shared something that had always haunted her, and something that was attributed to the worst moments in her life aside from the Hunger Games and getting reaped.
"I-I'm ju-ust a p-punching bag...t-to-to him." She felt the fury of humiliation from that day; people just watched her, some even laughed as she was run down, tripped. "He an-and his friends...chased me around...he dis-l-located my sh-sh-shoulder…and then…"
A few tears escaped despite her best efforts to control them. She'd never dared speak about it before, and besides, she'd never had anyone who ever showed enough interest to listen to anything she had to say. The combination of attention and mild pressure to speak something led to this confession.
There was a murmuring noise in the audience, and frantic whispers went back and forth. Gadget was in it now, she might as well go all in. She paused from speaking more however, when she looked up past the audience, and noticed the high booths with what she could only guess were VIPs and Gamemakers, because Seneca Crane was front and center in the middle booth, and he was watching her. She could feel his laser-focussed gaze on her.
"This is quite a serious matter, Gadget," Caesar said, calling the girl's attention back, "accusing your district partner of this kind of behavior…" He paused suddenly and touched two fingers to his right ear. "I'm being told that there are numerous medical records that corroborate what you're telling us."
Gadget's eyes widened slightly. Of course, all those visits to the medics, even the school nurse or town medic kept detailed records. And no surprise that the Capitol had near-instant access to all of it. Any medical expert could easily identify most of the injuries and what caused them.
They got worse when she got older. The dislocated shoulder was just on her thirteenth birthday. Binary said it was a present. He wanted to do more, one for each year in her life. The town copper seller happened upon her and helped her, got her shoulder set back, and even paid for that particular medical expense.
"Th-th-then you kn-know…" Gadget looked down. It was nice getting it out, but also most embarrassing. She was showing just how weak and pathetic she was to the whole world!
"Did he do...anything else?" Caesar asked plainly.
Gadget looked up sharply at the man, then shook her head. "H-he j-just liked...t-to beat an-and…break my…"
She was rubbing her arm again, the one that Binary had indeed broken, and Caesar's, and just about everyone's eyes went to her arm, which was bare, and it was easy to see some scars. Scars that she always hid behind long-sleeved clothing.
"I see." Caesar nodded, a look of sympathy on his face. "I don't imagine he's going to be very happy with you now, but Gadget…"
Gadget had looked downwards and away after she'd spoken, so when Caesar called her, she looked up nervously again.
Caesar's face was lit with a comforting smile. "I believe in you. We believe in you. You're going to be a winner. You've come a long way from everything you used to be. I just hope you can see that."
Gadget wasn't sure about that, but as she cast a quick glance towards the audience, many had their hands over their hearts, some were whispering to each other, and some were shaking their heads. But none seemed to be looking at her with particular hatred or disgust.
She barely resisted jumping when she felt a large hand gently wrap itself around hers and with the barest of prompts from Caesar, she'd risen to her feet.
"Isn't that right folks?" Caesar called loudly. "Do we believe in Gadget?"
The audience shouted their cheers, many rose to their feet, applauding and screaming encouragement, calling out her name. People began to chant, "GADGET! GADGET! GADGET!"
Caesar held Gadget's arm up high and he smiled at her amidst the cheering of the crowd. He tapped a button on his jacket with his free hand, and he nodded down at the mic attached to her dress, and she realized he wanted her to turn off her own mic, which evidently was part of the dress.
After she imitated his actions, she actually felt something click, and realized the pick-ups were now off. Caesar leaned in close and said softly in her ear, "Take heart, young lady. You've got people rooting for you. Also, we'll arrange for security for you on your way back to the suite."
Gadget realized with a start that Caesar fully understood the consequences of Gadget's actions and was ensuring protection for her.
With a gentle motion, he lowered their raised arms, and guided her towards the exit on the left side of the stage, away from where she'd enter, and she could see Binary's glare. For good measure, the same man that had ushered her out had his hand firmly on the boy's shoulder.
The walk back to the suite was not at all lonely or uneventful. When she had reached the stage exit, the four Careers before her were looking at her with neutral expressions. But they looked more thoughtful now, instead of when they'd been looking at her like she was a meal.
As instructed, she'd left the interview and made her way back to the suite immediately.
She stumbled a little when she saw two Peacekeepers move from their posts as soon as she'd moved past them a little.
They stopped when she stopped, and that made it clear to her. They were her escorts.
After that, it was relatively smooth structuring, except when she saw Grid from across the courtyard gardens on the way to the suite elevators. He was glowering at her, and she felt herself wilt inside even with her two burly Peacekeeper escorts.
Still...what she'd done was...tame, compared to everything Binary had done to her collectively.
When she'd gotten back, she was alone in the District Three suite save for the Peacekeepers and Avoxes. And she bit back a shriek when she found an Avox unobtrusively standing inside her room, stationed at the corridor between the entrance to the bedroom and the restroom.
As long as she slept on the edge of the left side of the bed, she wouldn't see the Avox. The two Peacekeepers that had escorted her, followed her right up to the entrance and turned, stationing themselves right outside her room.
Did they think that Binary was vindictive enough to try assaulting her that night?
Yes…yes he most definitely would, Gadget realized bitterly.
She changed out of her stylist's horrendous dress in the bathroom (privately glad that there wasn't a Peacekeeper or Avox hiding somewhere) as quickly as possible and did her best to go to sleep. She didn't want to think about the pros or cons of everything that had transpired.
She was emotionally drained, and was able to slip off quickly.
The next day was filled with dread and terror. In a few hours she was going to have to use everything she had to survive. The odds were not in her favor, no matter how many people said otherwise.
"Gadget?" she heard Septimius' muffled voice call out through the door.
Maybe the Peacekeepers were instructed not to let anyone in, including Septimius.
She'd already changed as soon as she woke, as she had nothing better to do to while away the time. She figured she'd wait in her room until it was time for the Games.
Still, Septimius probably had something important to share with her, and she owed it to him and her mentors to see what they had to say about her actions last night.
She crossed the room into the corridor and opened the door. Septimius was waiting patiently, with a look of concern on his face. "Are you alright?"
Gadget blinked at the query. She did not feel alright, but simply nodded mutely.
Accepting the silent response, Septimius turned his body sideways and gestured for her to go on ahead of him.
She felt queasy, but fought to maintain control. She knew Grid, Qwerty and Binary would be about. She had no choice but to face the consequences.
To her surprise, however, they were not present in the large open spaces of the lounge area, nor the dining room. It was just Peacekeepers, Avoxes, Beetee, Wiress, and now, herself and Septimius.
"They're not here," Beetee affirmed as soon as Gadget sat down at the table, "after last night, Grid and Qwerty spent most of the entire night speaking to various would-be sponsors, and the boy was trying to do damage control with his interview."
"A few of them pulled out and decided to join you instead," Wiress added enthusiastically.
"O-oh…" was all Gadget was able to manage. She noticed Septimius was arranging a plate of food, and he placed it in front of her once it was filled.
"I-I'm n-not really h-hun-" Gadget started.
"Eat," Septimius quietly encouraged her, "remember, this might be the last good full meal you'll have for a few days."
Beetee and Wiress nodded their agreement to that.
She felt like she would not be able to keep anything down, yet Gadget knew Septimius was right. Assuming she lived past the Bloodbath, after the adrenaline rush and the frantic running and panic...hunger was going to be a horrible tormentor.
Slowly, she picked up the spoon and fork, and ate. Once she began, Septimius spoke.
"As indelicate as it sounds for me to say, Gadget, what you did last night was good."
The girl froze mid-chew. Green eyes looked towards him nervously. Good?
"You need to focus on you, Gadget," Beetee said, looking right at her, "so yes, what you did? Good. As Wiress said, you exposed Binary in front of the entire Capitol. Granted, it's nothing compared to what some tributes have done, but it was enough that it lost him some sponsors, and gained you sponsorships. The medical records backing up anything you said, and more besides, just damned the boy...in fact, by your omitting some of the worse things, it made him look less and less likable."
"Even if it's out of sympathy, it's better than nothing at all," Wiress added.
Gadget swallowed her food, and took a breath before saying, "B-b-but why w-would they waste…"
"We don't waste time and resources on anyone, Gadget," Beetee said evenly.
"You have a chance," Wiress joined, "it was good before, but now it's even better."
"Gadget," Septimius called her attention back to him, "it wasn't lost on anyone that Binary has been picking on you since before you were both reaped. It's not a stretch to imagine he is not an ideal partner to have that would aid or benefit you in the Games. Only himself. You two are most certainly not going to be like Dayta and Beyta."
Gadget nodded reluctantly at that.
"At the end of the day," Beetee said, "it's you that we want to see winning the Games."
"And you know what that means for Binary," Wiress put in flatly.
Gadget looked down at her food. She'd managed to put away half the plate already. But just thinking about what had to happen to Binary made her sick to her stomach. She did not like Binary. And in all likelihood, had they never been reaped and continued to live out their lives in their district, they could well remain bitter enemies.
But did Gadget hate Binary? Did she dislike him enough that if she had the opportunity, would kill him? Especially knowing that if it served him or benefitted him in any way, he wouldn't even hesitate or pause to think about ending her life?
Septimius suddenly chuckled. "Your friends from District Eight, especially that startlingly colorful girl, Lace, talked about you, and her worry about you, with Caesar."
Beetee and Wiress joined in with polite laughter of their own.
"Sh-she d-d-did?" Gadget stammered. "Wh-why?"
"Because she cares about you, Gadget!" Wiress burst and smiled. "Is it so hard to imagine that people might care for you to put aside themselves for you?"
"Yes," was all Gadget said, but it did wipe the smiles off of everyone's faces, and now she felt horrible for doing that. For taking away any happiness the adults seemed to have.
I'm a virus.
"Gadget…" Septimius lightly held her right hand, and Wiress reached out to take her left. "...We care for you. I want you to know that, and carry that with you. I want you to do your best, and even if it's not enough, we will not think less of you. But do your best, is all we ask. For you."
"We're going to be with you, even if not literally," Beetee said. "Believe that we will be doing all we can here. We'll get them to send whatever supplies you might need."
"Is there anything you can think of that might be useful to you that you'd want?" Wiress asked.
She had watched enough Games to know what is commonly provided in the Cornucopia, but anything else, like what Electra used to make her armor and shockstaff, were provided by sponsors.
So Gadget forced down another mouthful of food and voiced out what she desired. Most of the things she asked for were tools, but some things were supplies or resources not commonly available in the environments in the arena, or the Cornucopia.
If they thought anything she asked for sounded ridiculous, none said so. Instead they merely nodded seriously, clearly memorizing all provided requests.
"We'll get as much of that as we can, and I must say," Beetee smiled, "that's quite ingenious. I wish I'd found you before the Reaping."
"Even without everyone jumping on board right away last night, you were almost the biggest and only highlight of all the interviews," Septimius said, "if not for the boy from District Twelve."
Peeta? What did he do?
The question must have been apparent in Gadget's look, because her mentors and Septimius all looked ready to launch into an explanation, but they exchanged looks and Beetee finally motioned, "Go ahead, Septimius."
He nodded, and looked at Gadget seriously. "He admitted in his interview that he is in love with Katniss."
Oh no. Gadget could see how this was a fairly disastrous turn of events.
No doubt the only mentor from District Twelve, Haymitch...drunken and unsteady as he was, would be selling this to the Capitolites. Star-crossed lovers. Septimius stated as much, but Gadget barely listened at that point. She could see the sponsors she'd supposedly gained slipping away to jump aboard the wagon.
It didn't help that apparently Katniss pulled off a repeat performance of her arrival, being literally on fire, in the interview. She had the Capitolites eating out of her hand. There was nothing they loved more. After all, the Hunger Games was just a big party for them.
Entertainment.
"Gadget, listen to me." Septimius leaned on the table, "this doesn't mean the tributes of District Twelve are a done deal. Anything can happen to change everything. The boy could die in the Bloodbath. He doesn't seem particularly aggressive. Or the Careers could gang up on the girl and kill her. She scored an eleven...she's going to register very high on their lists as a threat, and they don't like anything more threatening than them."
Beetee nodded. "That's right, so what you need to do is look after you. You've done great so far, so don't stop now."
It was put gently, but it was still an order, and Gadget decided to take it as such.
She finished her food as she listened to her mentors and Septimius, until it was time. They did a lot to try and put her at ease, but as the clock drew ever closer to the start of the Games, her anxiety grew like a bloating hard drive in her gut, and she felt ill.
But there was nothing to be done about it but face her destiny. At least she didn't have to see her stylist again.
They marched with her to the transport ship that would take them to the arena.
"Gadget," Beetee called over the noise of the ship's engines, "it's going to be chaotic, so try and stick to the edges of the Cornucopia rather than rushing to the center. But watch what everyone does, and adjust your movements accordingly."
"You're as ready as you can be," Wiress encouraged and patted her on the arm lightly. "Good luck."
She turned to Septimius, and, for the first time in her life, did something utterly impulsive and bold.
She rushed forward and hugged him.
If he was surprised, Septimius did not show or make any reaction to prove it so. But he gently hugged her back. "Go. Win. You win by surviving. I know you can, and you will," was his final parting message.
"O-okay…" Gadget promised. Even if she didn't believe it herself, perhaps the man needed this.
She waved goodbye to them one last time, and slowly walked out across the rooftop courtyard where the ship awaited. Upon closer inspection, it was some sort of hovercraft. Had she been not heading to a life-or-death situation, Gadget might have enjoyed studying the vehicle more extensively. She'd love to know the ins and outs of how it worked and what she could do to make it even better.
All the other tributes were on board, including Binary, but he was neatly sandwiched between Thresh and Elm, and once she seated herself, she could only see him if she leaned forward to look.
The craft took off as the boarding ramp closed. While on board, a technician with an injection gun approached each tribute, demanding for their arm, and explaining that they were being fitted with a tracker. Gadget knew what it was for. It was how they could tell when a tribute died.
Lace cried out in pain when hers was put in. Gadget was barely any better.
This was really happening. The pilot announced their arrival, and they were soon disembarking, and got ushered into separate entrances by Peacekeepers.
The door slid open into a white room with tiled walls, and the Peacekeepers practically pushed Gadget inside and shut the door behind her.
This was it. The Games were about to begin and Gadget couldn't feel more helpless.
Few things decorated the room. A table with clothes that Gadget knew she had to wear. And the tribute tube on the other end that Gadget would soon have to step into.
Something that would help bring her to her demise.
"Ten minutes to launch," a robotic voice said and Gadget jumped.
Ten minutes to the end of her life.
It was coming so fast. So, so fast.
Ten minutes and Gadget's life would be over. Snuffed out like it was nothing.
And…maybe she was nothing. Nobody would care to see her gone. Not even her own family.
Maybe…dying is for the best…
Gadget shook and clutched at her head.
But I don't want to die! I don't! I don't want…
As quickly as she could, Gadget shed her clothes and pulled on the ones provided to her. Tawny colored cargo pants and a yellow shirt and jacket, and the boots were much preferable than the heels Gadget had had to wear during her interview.
Gadget sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. She stood no chance. None at all. Was it even worth playing?
No matter how much her mentors, and Septimius, too, told her they believed in her, Gadget didn't think they really meant it.
Corduroy and Lace…her only allies within the arena. Did they hate her as much as she did herself?
"There you are, Beautiful!"
Gadget spun around and froze.
From the entrance to the room, Mortimer came through the door. It shut as quickly as it had opened for him.
No…
"Nervous?" Mortimer asked as he put his hands in his pockets. "Oh, don't be! You'll kill it!"
Gadget's lip wobbled as Mortimer laughed at his own joke.
"Ah, well." Mortimer gestured at Gadget. "You have your tribute uniform. It wasn't made by me, so it's not as fabulous as it could be, but it's something."
Mortimer didn't make this…okay…okay…
It wasn't much to know, but it helped her to feel relief. She wouldn't die wearing clothes created by Mortimer.
"Expect it to be cold, then, Beautiful," Mortimer told her.
Gadget nodded, but she didn't care for his words. All he said was something Gadget had deduced for herself.
All she wanted was to be far away from him.
"Three minutes to launch," the robotic voice said.
"Oh! I almost forgot!" Mortimer pulled one hand out of his pocket and Gadget recoiled.
But it wasn't a vial of liquid that he pulled out of his pocket, but Gadget's token. The microchip her mom gave her.
"That's…" Gadget trailed off almost instantly. That's mine.
And yet, here she was without it. It was the only possession she really owned and she had forgotten about it.
Gadget reached out to take it back, but Mortimer held it up out of her reach.
"Not yet," Mortimer said. He pulled his other hand out of his pocket, and with it came the vial Gadget feared he would have.
"No-" Gadget started and she tried to retreat the few steps she had taken closer to Mortimer.
But Mortimer grabbed her hand roughly. She could feel the microchip dig into her skin.
"Yes," Mortimer said, and tugged her close to him in spite of her protests.
"Pl-please," Gadget begged. She eyed the vial fearfully. "Not again. Please. N-not again."
"You and your escort made me look like a fool," Mortimer said with a cheery smile. His hand squeezed around hers harder.
It was nothing like the way Lace and Corduroy held her hand.
"I-I'm sorry!" Gadget apologized. "I don't w-want to. Please!"
"Please?" Mortimer asked, and he forced Gadget tighter into his arms. "Like how I begged you, Beautiful, to do this for me?"
Mortimer's thumb rubbed over Gadget's lip, and she tried to pull away.
But it was useless. Mortimer was stronger than she was.
This was it, then? She was going to die without even knowing what was truly going on around her.
I'm going to die without my mind…
"Here we go, then. You'll come to enjoy it, Beautiful," Mortimer said, and he uncapped the vial.
"No…" Gadget whimpered.
"One minute to launch."
The door thudded open abruptly and without warning. Mortimer's grip loosened as he looked back in surprise, and Gadget threw herself out of his grip.
Mortimer made a sound of annoyance, but he capped the vial again and slipped it back into his pocket. Then he turned to the entrance and the man that had come to interrupt them.
"Fifty seconds to launch."
A blond man that Gadget didn't recognize looked between the two of them. He didn't look like someone from the Capitol, really. No weird cosmetics or changes. Not like Mortimer.
"Can I help you?" Mortimer asked, sounding very annoyed and impatient to Gadget. "I was in the middle of something."
Gadget hurried backwards into her launch pedestal. She needed to get out. Away from Mortimer and the danger he presented.
"Forty seconds to launch."
Just a little bit longer. And then she would never have to see Mortimer ever again.
Beetee, Wiress, and Septimius, too…
She was never going to see them again. Never get to say anything to Syncis again.
"Checking in on the tributes," the man said and pushed aside some clothing from his strange looking outfit.
"Well, as you can see, Beautiful and I are perfectly well!"
"Thirty seconds to launch."
"Isn't that right, Beautiful?" Mortimer asked and he looked towards her. He gave her a tight smile and tilted his head slightly.
Gadget wouldn't give him what he wanted. Because she wasn't well, not with him in the same room as her.
Mortimer frowned and dropped his hands to his side. "Beautiful's a bit shy."
"Twenty seconds to launch."
Mortimer began to turn back towards the man. "Is there anything else-"
Mortimer stopped suddenly, and his features contorted into surprise when-
Boom!
Mortimer's head snapped back as a burst of blood and brain sprayed across the room. Chunks of brain matter and broken pieces of bone scattered across the floor.
Gadget gasped in shock and slid against the wall. Her eyes transfixed on the sight of Mortimer dangling back…before he fell to the ground.
Blood slid down his light-green skinned face, and it couldn't look more wrong.
"By the President's command," the blond man said, smoking gun in hand. But behind him, none of the Peacekeepers made a move.
"Ten seconds to launch."
"You…you killed him," Gadget whimpered. Mortimer just lay on the floor, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, unseeing.
Gadget retched onto the floor outside the launch pedestal.
He's dead, he's dead, he's dead!
The launch doors slid shut with a click, and Gadget watched in horrified trepidation as the blond man directed two Peacekeepers to grab hold of Mortimer's corpse, and carried him away.
She was going to meet a similar fate in just a few minutes.
Gadget sucked in a heavy breath and blinked away the tears in her eyes.
She began to rise and the ceiling opened with a burst of light.
I'm going to die!
The Hunger Games were about to begin.
